


The Thunder Hurried Slow

by Aenigmata



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-05
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-06-05 16:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15174590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenigmata/pseuds/Aenigmata
Summary: The Gerudo were not a subtle people. To be beautiful, to be new, to be important meant that eyes followed you; the queen was all three and the weight of how people stared would not let her forget it.





	The Thunder Hurried Slow

It wasn’t uncommon for Hylians princesses to find their way to Gerudo Town before marriage. Many toured the kingdom as a farewell voyage to the follies of youth. The most recent princess had not made such a quest, but no one had thought anything of it. Some princesses were good at adventuring and others better suited for a quiet life within the castle walls.

So it had been surprising for the young Gerudo chief to hear that there was not a princess, but a _queen_ at her gates. No trade meetings or diplomatic councils were scheduled. According to Urbosa’s guards, there were only a handful of voe knights with her.

Urbosa took her place on the throne as the queen of Hyrule was led in. The queen was dressed modestly for travel, but there was no denying the royalty of her. Urbosa knew her to be some ten years her senior, but not a day of it wore on her face. If anything, the small traces of time -- the smile lines around her eyes, the fine threads of silver through her golden hair -- made her all the more lovely.

“You are welcome here, your majesty,” Urbosa intoned with a slight nod of her head. “I apologize that you were not forewarned about our policies regarding voe within the town limits. You might have brought vai guards with you, who could accompany you here.”

“Thank you, Chief Urbosa,” the queen said, replying with a short bow and a quick smile, “but I chose my guard quite purposefully.”

 _Ah_. So the queen had known. Urbosa looked down on the queen’s polite smile and sensed its depth. She found her mouth mimicking the shape. She would learn in the years to come that the queen’s smile was dangerously contagious.

“I see. Be that as it may, it is never wise for a queen to roam the streets alone, even in Gerudo Town,” Urbosa continued. Were all Hylian queens so reckless? Or so beautiful? The queen had not even stated the purpose of her visit, but before Urbosa could ask --

“If you are offering your company, I accept,” the queen replied, her smile growing wider. A whisper rippled through the assembled vai, astonished at the queen’s brashness. Urbosa felt her cheeks coloring. She had meetings, business to attend to, merchants to screen --

“Very well, your highness,” she found herself saying. Several of her attendants turned to look at her suddenly, but Urbosa hardly noticed. The queen had dimples when she smiled wide enough. Besides, it would be rude to disregard a royal at one’s door no matter the reason; hospitality ran deep in her people, another shadow of how a harsh desert life had shaped them. “Allow me to escort you on whatever task has brought you to our borders.”

“You have my thanks, Chief Urbosa,” the queen said, a sparkle in her eye telling of some silent victory. “There shall be time for such tasks later, I think. For now, I would be grateful for a tour of your fine town.”

“As you wish,” Urbosa agreed, eyeing this strange queen. Despite the old battle reflex that associated the unknown with danger, she felt herself warming to this vai.

~ 

The Gerudo were not a subtle people. To be beautiful, to be new, to be important meant that eyes followed you; the queen was all three and the weight of how people stared would not let her forget it.

“You govern curious people,” the queen said brightly, smiling kindly at a slack-jawed merchant. The vai in question blushed dark.

“You must forgive them, your majesty,” Urbosa said, glancing over her shoulder to raise her eyebrows at the flustered vai. “I know the Hylian people are far more reserved.”

“I hardly mind,” the queen replied, running her hand over the sandstone walls beside them. “If every place I traveled were the same, there would be no use leaving my bed.”

Urbosa felt the heat in her cheeks again and directed them through a nearby tunnel. When the queen wasn’t dropping casual comments that made Urbosa’s stomach flip, she revealed herself to be quite clever. The queen had a scientific eye that Urbosa guessed few knew about.

“Irrigation must be difficult this far out into the desert,” the queen would say. “How deep are your wells?”Or, “There are hardly any seams between the walls here -- how do your architects blend the stone so flawlessly?”

Whenever Urbosa began to ask again about the purpose of the queen’s visit, the vai would distract her with another thoughtful question. If the queen was consciously stroking Urbosa’s pride, the chief did not care; there was little she loved more than speaking highly of her town and its people. So involved was Urbosa in the town’s ongoings that she had answers for everything. When speaking of such technical matters, she seemed to find the voice of which the queen’s presence had robbed her. She waited for the queen to tire of it, to switch subjects, but she never did. If anything, she proved to be an excellent listener; her eyes watched Urbosa’s passion with an air of incredulity, but she didn’t seem displeased.

As the sky started to redden with the promise of sunset, Urbosa found herself wishing her town were larger. They had toured everywhere worth seeing, but she was hardly ready to bid farewell to the queen. Surely, her highness would want to make camp with her guards outside the town walls.

“How does adventure sit with you, my queen?” Urbosa asked cautiously as they made their way through a back alley. It was a wide enough space, but their shoulders kept brushing.

“Adventure?” the queen asked, laughing quietly. “I would say you are my first, Chief Urbosa, and I find it most welcome.”

For a moment, Urbosa was stunned. It took longer than she cared to admit to collect herself.

“Follow me,” she said suddenly, flushing madly. Moving slowly as to show the queen where she placed her hands and feet, Urbosa scaled the sandstone wall of the alley. The Hylian queen followed with much less grace and accepted a hand from Urbosa to haul her onto the roof. Their feet splashed through the water that flowed along lazily through the maze of rooftops and channels.

“A sunset view worthy of you, majesty,” Urbosa said, gesturing to where the sun was sinking into the desert. The queen stared at it in wonder, moving to sit on the roof’s edge. Urbosa settled beside her. Their feet dangled over the edge, dripping water into the desert below.

“You govern a truly beautiful realm,” the queen finally breathed. Urbosa did not think to correct her that it was the queen’s realm. Gerudo Town enjoyed autonomy from the castle, born from a lingering distrust. Her only thought was that if all queens were like this one, no Gerudo would raise so much as a blade against the castle.

“You would be welcome here,” Urbosa said softly, “for as many sunsets as you desire.”

She knew this offer made little sense; queens harbored anywhere beyond the castle too long became threats that outweighed their presence tenfold. The darkness that lived in the desert’s monsters and those with twisted hearts could almost taste royal divinity on the air, and they hungered for it. But was Urbosa not the finest warrior her people had seen for generations? If any could defend the town and its guest, it would be her. The idea of Gerudo Town standing as the only other stronghold well-defended enough to host a queen -- to host _anyone_ \-- was potent. A new golden age of honor for the Gerudo.

“I could grow old trying to have my fill of them,” the queen replied, but something in her gaze turned somber. “To you, I must already seem old.”

“Hardly,” Urbosa scoffed. As young a chief as she was, Urbosa had twenty years to her credit; she knew how age weighed on a person, and the queen seemed untouched by it. “The world is still new to us.”

“To hear my mother speak, I am a crone.” The queen gave a short, humorless laugh. “The castle asks much of me in the weeks to come. I am to pick a suitor and bear an heir.”

“Then… why are you here?” Urbosa asked. Queens did not wander into the merciless desert without reason; especially this queen, who Urbosa felt had never so much as lifted a finger without forethought and purpose. Even the stories of past royal visits offered no insight; where princesses of old had come to drink and act rashly, Urbosa sensed this queen was far above such antics.

“I trust your town,” the queen said, “but some words are better saved for where others cannot hear them.”

Urbosa pondered that for a moment. If the queen’s secret was political, nowhere would be safer than the throne room. But if it were of a different nature… Urbosa thought of the queen’s casual jibes, her unconscious touches, her smug satisfaction when the young chief grew flustered. She knew where those secrets were best spoken.

Urbosa stood and extended a hand for the queen. They held each other’s gaze for a long moment before the queen rose and took the offered hand. The rooftops of Gerudo town were maze-like, but a practiced vai could navigate them as well as any street below. Following Urbosa’s lead, they slipped through the blue-tiled waterways.

The Gerudo were a people of honesty and openness amongst themselves. In a city of vai, there were few walls; Urbosa’s chambers were no exception. As she helped the queen down from the rooftop, she prayed silently that this space would be safe enough to warrant an honest answer.

“You didn’t show me this area,” the queen said, slowly turning to drink in the room. The late sun dyed the entire space red and turned the queen’s hair auburn. The noise of the town outside was waning quickly, leaving only the sound of waterfalls at the back of the room. Someone had already come in and lit the lanterns for her.

“These are my chambers,” Urbosa explained, suddenly feeling embarrassed as she watched the queen run her hand over a sandstone bedpost. Urbosa was known to be fearless in combat and firm in her rule, but something about the queen made her terribly uncertain. For once, she felt endlessly a step behind. “Every chief has spoken her secrets here and none have escaped. Speak freely here, if it pleases you.”

The queen smiled sadly, her hand running up the length of the post.

“You are young still, though I know the warrior in you is loathe to hear me say it,” the queen said softly. She turned to look Urbosa in the eye. “You may not think of me so kindly once you hear my reasons for this visit.”

“I will hear them,” Urbosa insisted, resolute.

The queen sighed and dropped her hand from the post. She ran her hands over her face and through her hair, releasing it from its braids. She combed it out absently with her fingers as she spoke.

“Legends of your skill in battle made their way to the castle first,” the queen began, her eyes closed. “They came in the form of war reports, warning me that the chief’s heir was a force beyond anything they had expected.” She smiled then, though it bore likeness to a grimace. “But in what they reported, I saw heart and skill. A dedication to your people. I was intrigued.”

She drifted slowly closer to Urbosa, eyes still closed. It seemed unconscious, but every nerve in the Gerudo’s body was on high alert.

“I watched you with such great interest,” she continued. “I burdened merchants with the best of our wares and sent them here to trade. To learn more about you. I began a correspondence with your mother before her death, asking about you. Against the advice of my council, I sent my guards to intercept any threats that planned to cause Gerudo Town harm.”

All at once, Urbosa felt the queen’s hand in her life. How often had her council marveled at the marketplace that blossomed under her care? And in her twilight days, her mother the chief had asked if Urbosa would consider a year’s mission as a diplomat. The low crime, the lack of invasion, so many merits of her time as chief had been the work of the queen. Some part of her knew she ought to feel betrayed by this information, to feel as if she had not earned the prosperity growing under her rule. But instead it felt more like a blessing from the gods themselves. Not many chose to ally themselves with the Gerudo, but here was the _queen_ , saying that she had.

“I admit I was disappointed when you did not attend my coronation,” the queen said, true shame creeping into her voice now. “When I later found that you had been by your mother’s side, I felt terrible. You were not mine. I vowed to leave you to your new role as chief.” She was very close now, clutching the hair that fell over her shoulder. “But the reports kept coming, proving time and time again that you were thriving on your own merits. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t look away. Just as I had once noticed you, so now did all Hyrule.”

Finally, the queen opened her eyes. She looked up at Urbosa, gray eyes filled with remorse.

“When my mother commanded me to take a husband, I knew I had to see you first. The Gerudo chief of my stories,” she whispered, reaching up a tentative hand to brush Urbosa’s cheekbone with the back of her hand. “This town has known many princesses running from their fates. If you thought me different because I am queen, then I will only disappoint you further, I fear.”

Urbosa’s cheek burned with the sweetest fire. Some small part of her mind protested that this queen was no foolish princess.

“I…” This queen had such a power to make her feel like a child. Urbosa swallowed. “I am not disappointed in you. How could I be?”

“Because I am an old queen about to take a husband. Because I couldn’t resist the stories of your kindness or your strength or your beauty. Because I can offer you little but tonight,” the queen said miserably, hand moving to cup Urbosa’s cheek.

Something in the queen’s restraint allowed Urbosa to tap the fire that usually led her into battle. It was different from the one that burned on her cheek, this one lower and closer to her core. She was certain the queen would touch her no further than this if left to her own accord. It was Urbosa’s decision now.

“Were they true?” Urbosa asked, the boldness filling her. When the queen’s brow furrowed in confusion, she continued, “The stories. Were they true? Am I kind?”

The queen let out a gentle breath that seemed to shake the entire height of her.

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes holding Urbosa’s. “You have the most gentle heart. I have seen you amongst your people.”

“And my strength?” Urbosa felt herself leaning closer.

“True of body and mind and conviction. You have no rival.”

Urbosa’s hands were rising of their own accord. They hovered just above the queen’s waist.

“And the stories of my beauty?”

“Lies, all of them,” the queen whispered, leaning ever-so-slightly forward. The small amount of air between them seemed charged with something as potent as a desert’s lightning. Urbosa could feel the heat of the queen’s breath. “They do you no credit. You are more lovely than any story could convey.”

The queen broke their gaze to glance at Urbosa’s lips and with that, all was lost.

Urbosa’s hands rushed from the queen’s waist to cradle her face just as her lips broke the distance between them. It ought to have been tender, but it took hold like an open flame. The queen’s hands were sliding across Urbosa’s stomach, then up her shoulders, finally burying themselves in her hair, pulling them closer together. The entire length of the queen’s body pressed against hers and it took all Urbosa had to keep them both upright.

They broke apart, if a hand’s width can be considered a distance, both gasping for air.

“Will you have me?” the queen asked quietly, her chest heaving. Urbosa could see she craved her partner’s certainty. “Knowing what you do, will you have me?”

Urbosa leaned forward and kissed her again, deep and full, breaking away only to whisper that _yes, of course, as much of her as she wanted_ …

Once, in her youth, Urbosa had made the mistake of touching an electric arrow. It had rocked her to the core, every bit of her alight. Now, the queen’s touch did much of the same, except that if it were to stop now, all might be lost.

Somehow, the queen navigated Urbosa to her own bed. The queen seemed immune to the complications of modesty that so many other Hylians suffered from; it was finally Urbosa who broke their kiss to untie the strings holding open the curtains around her bed. She had laid with many a vai in full open air, but this was different. This time, she wanted the queen to herself in every way. If she was allowed one moment of selfishness in her life, she wanted to use it now.

The queen welcomed her back to bed with a kiss that tasted like urgency. Urbosa had never laid with a Hylian before, but she felt that the queen did not love like any other of her kind. Urbosa ended up on her back, hands finding hold on the queen’s hips as the royal highness of Hyrule began working open-mouthed kisses down her neck. Someone cried out in desperate want -- it could have been either of them.

Clothes slid off both of them like whispers, the queen strangely efficient in removing Urbosa’s pieces of armor. Urbosa, for all her experience, had a vague thought she ought to be doing more, but the queen seemed perfectly content to unravel her.

It had become a trend among the younger Gerudo to seek out voe for sex and love. She heard whispers that the culture was shifting; vai laying with other vai had become commonplace and expected. Voe offered an entirely new world of scandal and experience.

But as Urbosa shared so much heat and skin with the queen, she wondered how any could tire of something as sacred as this.

~

The surrounding desert made blankets unnecessary, but Urbosa had settled a fine pearlescent sheet over the two of them; it clung to skin in distracting ways and allowed them the illusion of secrecy. The queen had burrowed into the crook of Urbosa’s arm and absently traced an invisible path across her chest.

“You already have the beginnings of a great chief,” the queen said softly, eyes fixed on her finger as it glided down the other vai’s sternum. “Surely you must see how your people adore you.”

Urbosa made a tight noise in her throat that caused the queen’s hand to stop. This morning she had been so sure she could entertain the queen as a diplomat, a strong leader. An equal, or as equal as one could be compared to her queen. But how quickly that had all unraveled. To pretend she had laid with the queen as an act of political strategy seemed a frail excuse. Her people had little to be proud of her for today. But the queen only laughed gently, perhaps sensing Urbosa’s disgruntlement, her wandering hand coming up to touch Urbosa’s neck.

“You must forgive me. Talking politics in bed is a bad habit of mine,” the queen said with a smile. Urbosa stiffened.

“Do you do this with every head of state?” the Gerudo chief asked. She would look back on this question as an insecurity of youth.

“Gods, no,” the queen replied easily, unbothered by the accusation. “Could you imagine me with a Goron? Or that great Zora king?” She laughed again.

Urbosa failed to find the humor. The problem was that she _could_ imagine it, all too well. This Hylian queen, golden in her nature and irresistable in her youth. She could call up to the gods to pleasure her and it would be their greatest honor to do so.

“Stop that,” the queen said, not unkindly. Still, there was a seriousness in her eyes.

“What?”

“You are thinking too highly of me,” the queen sighed, breaking their eye contact to nestle closer to Urbosa’s side.

“You have given me much to think highly of,” Urbosa replied, thinking of the queen’s hands across her body, her knowing laughter, her quiet curiosity. The queen was silent, however, and Urbosa sensed this would be an unwinnable argument. Instead, she ran her fingers through the queen’s damp hair -- they had bathed together after -- and used the other hand to slide down her arm. “Are all Hylians so pale?”

She felt the queen shake her head.

“You are the color of milk,” Urbosa teased, hoping to draw her out of her thoughts. She extended the queen’s arm, only half-pretending to marvel at it. Finally, quiet laughter drifted up to her. It was a welcome sound. “Did you know you have your future laid out like a map upon you, your highness?”

“Oh?” the queen replied, looking up with that twinkle of curiosity.

“Would you like me to read it?”

“Very well.”

“I need your back, I’m afraid,” Urbosa said, moving the two of them to lay on their sides. The queen’s back faced her, littered with freckles and moles spelling out a constellation against her pale skin. Urbosa tried not to imagine how such skin might tan after long years spent in the desert or how it might compliment the silver color her hair would turn someday.

“I dislike this view,” the queen said, presumably forced to stare at one of the room’s walls.

“Hush now,” Urbosa replied, sweeping a few strands of the queen’s golden hair out of the way. “Now then.” Urbosa’s hand hovered over her back. They both knew this was a comical endeavor, but Urbosa wanted these words to count. “I see a long reign for you, your majesty. For many years, your kindness will be challenged only by your beauty. You will marry well. Your heir will guide Hyrule even further into its Golden Age.”

“Hm,” the queen hummed. “With my heir be a boy? A girl?” When Urbosa failed to decide right away, the queen rolled over to face her, a mischievous grin revealing her dimples. “Will it be both? Neither?”

“You ask too many questions,” Urbosa decided with a smile, playfully grabbing the queen by her waist and pulling her close. Their foreheads came to rest together.

“And what do you see of your fate in my shoulders?” the queen asked, so quiet for a moment that Urbosa thought she might have imagined the question.

“One can never read their own fate,” Urbosa replied, letting go of her and rolling to lay on her back. The queen did not try to console her. Rather, she sat up and stared down at the Gerudo chief.

“You know I must marry one who can help me bear children,” the queen began. Urbosa nodded, her eyes meeting the queen’s. She had no expectations for this. Childish wishes, perhaps, but nothing to which she would hold the queen. That had been their arrangement -- they were strangers by very definition, and strangers did not get to expect things of one another. The queen continued, sounding hesitant. “I would not insult you by asking you to be my consort.”

That was for the best. Urbosa was a leader in her own right. Her people needed her.

“Perhaps what I ask of you may be too much,” the queen continued softly. “If this is the case, I encourage you to decline.” She took a steadying breath, looking away as she forced the words out. “I would selfishly keep you as my dearest friend and counsel. No people would be closer to the palace than the Gerudo, and no one, save the king, would be closer to me than you.”  

Her eyes flickered back to Urbosa’s.

They sat in silence for a time.

“You think much of me for having known me only a day,” Urbosa said.

“Blame divinity if it comforts you,” the queen said, “but I can see the heart in you. I would have offered you this the moment I met you just as surely as I would having known you a hundred years.”

Another silence followed that.

Royal counsel was often found at the foot of the throne, but Urbosa was in no such position to leave her people even for a short while. And for what? The admiration of a queen so soon to be betrothed? What sort of chief would that make her?

“Know me another day,” Urbosa said finally, “before I decide.”

If the queen was disappointed by the postponement, she hid it well. She nodded in agreement, her mouth twisting into a thoughtful expression.

“Much can be done in a day,” the queen said after a moment, a smile growing.

Urbosa reached up and caught the smile with her mouth.

~

The next day, the queen breathed new life into the only home Urbosa had ever known. She had thought there was nothing left worth seeing, but every wonder was new to the queen. By the Hylian’s insistence, Urbosa took them out into the surrounding sands and showed the queen how to harvest the desert’s bounties. She was an avid learner, a joy to teach, unafraid to settle her knees into the sand and gather dirt beneath her nails. Urbosa stood back and watched as the queen pressed her ear to a hydromelon, knocking gently to hear if it sounded hollow. When she was satisfied, she pulled a silver knife smoothly from her boot and cut through the vine. For her grace, she might have been born in the desert and raised doing this all her life.

Urbosa dragged the basket of melons and fruits as the queen chattered easily beside her. By the time they reached the main gates again, the queen had decided there were at least a hundred Hylian recipes Urbosa must try. The pair made their way past the modest cluster of tents where the queen’s voe guards had set up camp. She smiled at them, waved at them; each voe looked begrudgingly resigned to his waiting. Only one, bearded and graying, raised his hand with a smirk in response to his queen. For this one, she reached into their harvest and selected a voltfruit, lobbing it in his direction. He caught it with an easy familiarity and returned to his conversation.

That night, Urbosa led the queen back to the rooftop. She carved out slices of melon dripping with juice and held them out to the queen on the edge of her knife.

“Have you considered my offer?” the queen asked as the sun slipped behind the dunes.

Urbosa appraised the vai beside her. No longer a stranger, perhaps. But enough to leave behind her people?

“Know me another day,” Urbosa replied, absently whittling at the melon rind with her knife. The queen had no reason to accept. She had come to taste what filled her dreams, and so she had. Yet --

“Very well.”

~

On the third day, the queen sat with the Gerudo and watched avidly as they cooked and laughed. She looked painfully out of place, pale and blonde where the others were auburn and tan, garbed in fresh blue where the other vai preferred the jewel tones of the earth. The Gerudo tongue sounded blocky and unfamiliar in her mouth, but she never once did she seem to feel shame; if anything, her failures made her all the more determined to get it right. By the end of the day, she knew each ingredient by its Gerudo name.

When they left the vai’s home at which they had been cooking, the pair smelled of cooked vegetables and smoked meats.

“ _She’s as clever as a snake_ ,” their hostess whispered to another vai in Gerudo tongue as they left, “ _but twice as lovely._ ”

Urbosa tossed them a pointed glare as she followed the queen out the doorway.

“You may not want to be fluent,” Urbosa warned as they made their way through the town. The first shades of night were beginning to darken the paths. “I wouldn’t blame you for not appreciating all that people say about you.”

The queen simply shrugged, leading them towards one of the communal cooking pots in the town. She set Urbosa beside the pot as she lit the fire beneath, quietly mouthing the names of the ingredients as she added them to the pot. When Urbosa rose to help, the queen settled a hand on her shoulder.

“Please,” was all she said. “Let me.”

By the time the queen handed Urbosa a bowl of some creamy soup, the night had swallowed the land whole. The young chief couldn’t remember any of the vai giving the queen this recipe, but it tasted as authentic as if her own mother had made it.

“How many have guessed at what keen eyes you keep hidden?” Urbosa asked as they scraped their bowls. The queen smiled, but said nothing. “Regardless, you have a talent.”

" _Sarqso_ ," the queen replied, the word flowing easily. _Thank you_.

“Why do you intend to learn our language with such enthusiasm?” asked Urbosa, regarding the queen in the light of the fire before them. Everyone in town could speak Hylian if they were willing -- and for a face as beautiful as the queen’s, they were _quite_ happy to do so.

The queen sat silently for a moment, working through something in her head. Urbosa had learned that thoughtfulness manifested itself on her face by a tiny crease between her brows.

“ _Will you come with me?_ ” the queen managed finally, the full sentence in Gerudo coming out awkward but understandable. For having learned only the basics this morning, it impressed Urbosa to the point of stunned silence.

“ _Know me another day_ ,” the chief replied in her own tongue, once she had recovered. For a moment, the queen seemed so satisfied that Urbosa worried she hadn’t understood. But she placed a pale hand on her knee and nodded.

“ _Another_ ,” she repeated.

When they retreated back to Urbosa’s chambers, the queen unraveled her kiss by kiss. Everywhere her mouth touched, she whispered into the skin a different Gerudo endearment. She called her _lover_ , she named her _warrior_ , she deemed her _holy_. When Urbosa’s back arched, she cried out a string of Gerudo swears. The queen smiled at that, like she knew those as well.

~

The dawn of the fourth day found Urbosa rising while the queen still slept. There was explaining to do to the council.

The Gerudo elders were already assembled in the throne room, standing with their arms folded. Urbosa joined them, taking a seat on the warm stone floor; it was a tradition of her people that no one sit on the throne during times of council. All voices were equal here.

Each elder took their seat, tense glances passed around before the oldest spoke.

“ _Three is known to be a sacred number,_ ” the old vai began pointedly, using Gerudo tongue in case any should try to listen. “ _Gerudo Town has never hosted a royal for any longer. Yet_ _this dawn marks the queen’s fourth day in our town_.”

“ _Is she not welcome here?_ ” Urbosa replied. “ _Will we once again be a people against the palace? What, then, will make us any better than the Yiga Clan?_ ”

“ _Her presence attracts threats,_ ” another vai reasoned.

“ _You may not call me the greatest warrior with one mouth and doubt me with another,_ ” the chief warned. “ _I have always protected this town._ ”

“ _You are young_ ,” begged a third. “ _You cannot bear her children. This affair is fruitless._ _Please consider our words._ ”

“ _My actions will create an alliance stronger than even my mother could have dreamed_ ,” Urbosa said, standing to leave. The queen would be waking soon. “ _If you put your faith in me, then no people will be closer to the palace than the Gerudo._ ”

If the council had any more reprimands for her, she did not wait to hear them. For some time, the council had supported her despite her youth. They encouraged calculated risks in the spirit of learning: _What kind of chief will you be?_ But now, as she followed the instincts they had encouraged her to grow, she found only resistance.  

In her chambers, the queen was awake and distractingly unclothed. She was inspecting her travel outfit, which bore the wear of rough hand washing these past few days.

“Worn clothes on a queen?” Urbosa joked from the doorway. The queen looked over but made no move to cover herself. “You deserve better.”

She found the queen green skirts to tie around her waist, located a chestplate from her youth to drape over her shoulders, slid a golden heel onto each of her feet. When she noticed the queen marveling at her jewelry peeking from an open drawer, Urbosa pulled out a box of bracelets and necklaces as well.

“ _Gold is sacred to my people_ ,” Urbosa explained as she brushed out the queen’s hair. She had tried to explain this in Hylian, but the queen had insisted on trying to understand the story in Gerudo tongue. Her willingness betrayed her arrogance, but Urbosa couldn’t help but admire it. “ _Gold is the colors of the sands. It is the shine of the sun. The mark of the Goddesses._ ”

“ _Gold is_ …” The queen frowned, trying to think of the words. Urbosa seperated a section of her hair and began braiding it. “ _Gold is royal. At castle_.”

“You sound displeased about it,” Urbosa replied, slipping back into Hylian. She brushed the queen’s hair into a high bun and pinned the remaining braids to frame her face.

“Gold is heavy, like a shackle,” the queen grumbled. “Perhaps due to the blood of Hylia that trickles through the royal line, Hylians have long conflated royalty and divinity. I am only a goddess to them when they want for miracles, yet when I ask for their faith I am nothing but a ruthless queen.”

The queen sighed. Urbosa placed a mirror in the queen’s hands so that she might admire herself. To see what Urbosa did.

“People tend to doubt youth,” Urbosa said quietly, thinking of her council session that morning. “You, too, were younger than most when the queen fell ill.” She glanced down at the queen, who was staring at her new reflection. “My queen… had you known that your mother would recover, would have taken the throne so early?”

The queen tilted her head slightly, still staring into her own gray-eyed reflection. The Gerudo fashion suited her, Urbosa reasoned.

“My family’s divine blessing is that of wisdom,” the queen replied finally, adjusting the mirror so that she could see Urbosa’s reflection, “yet we have always sought power through rule. It always seemed ridiculous to me.”

“So… no, then?”

“Forgive me,” the queen laughed, setting down the mirror and turning to face Urbosa. “I forget sometimes that I am not in court, and that good questions deserve honest answers.” She moved and arranged herself carefully on Urbosa’s lap, holding her face gently in her hands. “I share my family’s desire for power; however, in my youth, I determined political influence to be too restrained, and therefore weak. But when the throne was offered to me, I decided to make the best I could of it.” She paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing and a smirk growing on her face. “I like to think I’ve done well with it.”

Urbosa stared at the queen, breathing in the scent of her. The council’s warnings slipped through her mind, unwieldy and impossible to process with the queen so close.  

“I believe you have,” Urbosa breathed. It had grown easier over the days to think of the queen as an equal; still above her by virtue of her wit, her charm, her beauty, perhaps, but not by anything as crude as rank. Still, there were times like these that reminded her that her wariness was detaining a queen -- her wariness, or her indecision, as she had come to think of it.

It was only late afternoon -- Urbosa knew she could put off this question until nightfall, as they had all the other nights, but now seemed as good of a time as any.

“I have asked many days of you,” Urbosa whispered, the queen still distractingly close. The other vai said nothing, just watched her carefully. “I worry that requesting another will seem… ungrateful.”

To her intense relief, the queen smiled softly. Quiet wrinkles framed her mouth, itself tinted with Urbosa’s own blue lipstick.

“I believe you could charm me out of a hundred days without my wrath,” the queen replied. “You will know when I must leave.” Perhaps she saw doubt on Urbosa’s face, for she added, “Don’t fret, Urbosa. Trust yourself.”

Something in Urbosa was set on fire, though at first she couldn’t fathom why. It took a long moment of staring at the queen for her to realize that she had addressed Urbosa without her honorific. She liked the sound of it so much that she kissed it right out of the queen’s mouth.

~

The fifth day began in a darkness uncharacteristic of the desert.

It had come time for the queen to meet the last of Urbosa’s blood. The chief’s sister was often found praying at the old shrines, asking for safety and forethought on her travels ahead. The vai had made it known that as soon as she became of age, she would leave in search of a voe.

The queen followed Urbosa’s lead as they descended into the chambers beneath the town. Urbosa had explained about the grand temples the Gerudo had once made for their goddesses, how they had become targets during all the great wars. Now, faith found its home beneath the earth, where it could be protected at all costs.

When they entered the shadowy vault beneath town, Urbosa’s sister was easy enough to find; she knelt before one of the three giant sandstone statues that dominated the space. Each statue held a blazing brazier of colored fire that offered weak light. The young vai heard their approach and quickly finished her prayer.

“I had heard there was a pale new vai among us,” she said kindly, standing and dusting the dirt from her pants. It was true that the queen had requested another Gerudo outfit today in place of her usual clothes. Urbosa thought they suited her, but everyone else thought it something on which to comment. Her sister gave a short bow and said, “A belated welcome, your highness.”

“Thank you,” the queen replied, dipping her head in acknowledgement. “You have a beautiful home, and…” She paused and glanced at Urbosa. “...a generous sister.”

The young vai nodded.

“I hope you will forgive me,” she said after a beat of somewhat awkward silence, “but I am expected at the sand seal races soon. Good day to you, your majesty.” She offered another quick bow and a tossed her sister a knowing look. “Sister,” she added, in place of a goodbye. They waited until the sound of her clinking jewelry disappeared up the stairs before speaking.

“You must forgive her brusqueness,” Urbosa apologized immediately. Likely her wariness was a result of the council’s loud mouth, but the queen hardly needed to know that. “She is young and embarrassing, as so many sisters are.”

“I am hardly offended,” the queen laughed, placing a gentle hand on Urbosa’s arm. “I sense a fire in her, just as I do you. In fact, you share many features.”

“She is the spitting image of me at seventeen,” Urbosa grumbled. “Ruder, perhaps. She is no warrior, but will make a good diplomat someday. If she tries.”

“I believe it,” the queen said placatingly. Her eyes strayed to the great statues before them, carved from the same sandstone that comprised the town. Perhaps she sensed a change of subject was necessary. “Which one of these is Hylia?”

“None,” replied Urbosa, following the queen’s eyes. “We Gerudo are not Hylians -- our goddesses are the sisters of old.” She pointed to the leftmost statue. “There is Farore, the goddess of courage, who created life.” Urbosa gestured to the middle statue. “Then Din, the goddess of power, who created the terrain.” She glanced at the queen before moving her hand to point at the rightmost statue. “And of course, there is Nayru, the goddess of --”

“Wisdom,” the queen finished quietly, the statue’s blue fire dancing in her eyes. “I know this one well.”

“Yes, I thought you might,” Urbosa said, watching her carefully. If the legends were true, her family was the carrier of Nayru’s Triforce third. It was strange, though -- if Urbosa was to be asked, she would say the queen bore more qualities of the goddess Din.

“Would you mind terribly,” the queen said, her eyes still focused and staring, “if we lingered here for a moment?”

“Of course not.”

Urbosa knew Hylians to be fierce worshippers of the goddess Hylia, from whom the royal line descended. It was not uncommon to see travelers with other beliefs offer a quick word at the shrines of her people’s goddesses, but there was a tenderness to the queen as she kneeled before Nayru’s shrine that surprised Urbosa. Few Hylians frequented the Springs of Power, Wisdom, and Courage, which were as close to the three goddesses as the Hylians ventured. But the queen seemed reverent for the opportunity. When her prayer showed no signs of stopping, Urbosa moved to guard the room’s entrance. No one else needed to see a goddess reincarnate bow before others of her kind, to call out to them -- to Urbosa, this place had never felt so holy. She wondered if some ghost of the goddess wept inside the queen, knowing she would never be able to return home.

When they emerged into the evening air, there was no word from either of them about the queen leaving; she would stay another day without being asked. They collapsed into Urbosa’s bed feeling so naked that neither removed their clothes before falling asleep intertwined.

~

“Hold still,” Urbosa warned.

“You sound so serious,” the queen laughed.

It was late afternoon on the queen’s sixth day and Urbosa had promised to pierce the queen’s ears. They sat amongst the tents of her guards’ temporary camp, enjoying the waning sunlight. Her guards seemed to have settled apathetically into their extended stay, but the queen had requested to spend the day with them nonetheless. It was obvious to Urbosa that they appreciated her company, especially the older, bearded man who had caught the voltfruit the other day. He had been assigned to the queen back when she was but a princess and they enjoyed an easy rapport. He was, Urbosa supposed, good enough for a voe.

On the whole, the camp left the chief and the queen to their devices. Several curious vai had ventured out of the town to chat and drink with the guards -- including, if rumors were to be believed, Urbosa’s sister.

“Are you ready?” Urbosa asked, lining up the needle to the queen’s earlobe. The queen gave a hum of agreement and Urbosa pushed the needle through. To her credit, the queen didn’t make any sound of pain. When both ears were finished, Urbosa showed the queen how to put in her earrings.

“Oh, but these are lovely, Urbosa,” the queen marveled, turning one amber earring over in her hand as the chief attached its twin.

“I bought them from the jewelry shop in the market,” Urbosa explained, feeling the color rising to her cheekbones. She finished screwing in the first earring. “Amber has special properties -- these should help keep you safe, should I not be present.”

“I love them,” the queen said firmly, reaching up and kissing Urbosa’s blushing cheek. “Thank you.”

Before Urbosa could reply -- to tell her how welcome she was, to ask permission to put in the other earring, to promise to buy her a hundred more -- there was the quiet and horribly familiar sound of metal slicing into skin. Urbosa looked down to see a thankfully small blade protruding from her bicep. Her eyes retraced its trajectory and saw the first of the hooded figures emerging from behind the town’s high walls.

“ _Intruders!_ ”Urbosa shouted, jumping to her feet to protect the queen with her full body. “Guards, to your queen -- Gerudo, to me!”

There was a scuffle as the queen’s knight ushered her into the nearest tent. A handful of Gerudo warriors, including the two who normally guarded the front gate, spread out around her to intercept the attacks. Silver scythes flashed in the late sunlight; Urbosa drew her own sword with a grim determination. Normally, the prospect of battle buoyed her, but today all she could think of was the vai hiding in the tents behind her.

“Yiga scum,” she called to the attackers, “I promise that your blood will water the sands tonight.”

~

“ _Sav'otta_ ,” the queen’s quiet voice said before Urbosa’s eyes could even focus properly.

Early morning light painted her chambers gold. The queen sat beside her, already dressed in her Hylian traveling clothes. Twin amber stones dangled from her ears.

The previous day washed over Urbosa like an incoming tide. The attack. The fact that the queen had watched Urbosa murder, had watched her bring lightning itself down on every last one of the Yiga clan. How quickly she had been marshalled to an emergency council meeting where they called the queen a verifiable threat. None had died, but the evidence was clear -- her welcome was over. By the time Urbosa, bruised, bloodied, bullied, had returned to her rooms, the queen had already been asleep.

Urbosa sat up slowly, her muscles aching. The queen reached out and brushed the knife wound on her arm.

“ _My warrior_ ,” she said sadly in Gerudo’s tongue.

“ _I am sorry,_ ” Urbosa replied. The queen had said she would know when it was time for the royal party to leave. Surely, that meant today. The only question know would be if Urbosa would accompany them.

They sat in silence for a long while. Finally, it was the queen who broke the silence.

“ _Seven days ago I offered you the position of my counsel,_ ” she began, her words flowing with surprising smoothness. How often had she practiced this? “ _You have proven yourself worthy a hundred times over._ ” Here the queen used the wrong verb, but Urbosa ignored it. Her heart was thundering. “ _We both know I must depart today. Will you return with me, even for a short while?_ ”

Urbosa turned the offer over and over in her mind. There were the reasons she had given to the council. A Gerudo alliance, an ironclad peace with the Hylians. Could she justify an extended absence for such a thing? Surely her sister would be a competent enough chief in her stead. But alliances were such flimsy things, especially when a king would be added to the equation so soon… Nonetheless, some small voice egged her on. It whispered promises of soaring castles dripping with grandeur, of a royal welcome beyond any her people had ever known... of warm nights with the queen as the rain drizzled outside.  

“I accept,” Urbosa said, looking up to meet the queen’s eyes, “with the condition that my first act as your counsel be to stay by your side as you select a suitor.”

“I would not dare choose one without you,” the queen agreed. She reached down and took Urbosa’s hand in her own and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

~

Time at the castle slipped out of Urbosa’s hands like the sands of her home.

When the queen returned with the Gerudo chief and a new set of amber earrings, the whispers kept them apart for days on end. The staff were courteous enough, placing Urbosa’s few belongings in a spare guest room down the hall from the queen’s chambers. She appeared alone before the queen’s mother and father, who seemed equal parts wary and polite.

The queen placed Urbosa directly beside her at meals, apparently ousting a high-ranking Hylian official in the process. The first night this happened, the queen made eye contact with each person around the table as if daring them to question her. Only when none did were they all allowed to eat.

At the end of the first week, as Urbosa sat in bed running a brush through her hair, the queen slipped into her rooms. They stared at one another for a moment, and Urbosa worried she would see the harsh glare from dinner return. But the queen’s eyes were as soft and gray as they had been in the desert. Urbosa chastised herself for expecting differently; here, the queen had to rule. Any ruler who was the same on the throne as they were in the bedroom would be either a soft royal or a terrible lover, and the queen was neither.

She welcomed the queen into her bed without words and together, inside borrowed walls, they carved out a sliver of something that tasted like home.

~

The next week, Urbosa found her steel again. She was, after all, a Gerudo chief and counsel to the crowned royal -- there was no need to sneak about the castle for fear of petty whispers. Despite never being explicitly invited, she attended meetings alongside the queen. Urbosa’s presence made rooms often palpably uncomfortable, but she didn’t miss the queen’s smile whenever she followed her into such situations.

In Gerudo Town, the queen had been a curious soul, always inquisitive and learning. Here, in her own domain, she had been raised since birth to know everything there was to know. She saw the queen’s curiosity starving behind blank eyes as she took in endless information and replied with the appropriate answers. Each time Urbosa welcomed her to bed, she felt as if she must sift through the vai before her to find the curious soul inside. Only then could she lay with her as they once had.

What calmed Urbosa was that she always found her, buried though she might be under obligations and expectations. The queen had a good heart, at her core; it would be unwise for others to know of such a weakness.

Word reached Urbosa by way of rumor that the queen’s mother had begged her for her discretion; her nightly visits to the guest room down the hall were hardly unnoticed. Suitors would be arriving in the coming weeks and it would seem highly improper for them to learn an affair was already underway. Evidently, this had not gone over well with the queen.

When Urbosa saw her next, she was prepared to ask her if the rumors were true -- but the determined glint in the queen’s eye and the furious blush on her cheeks were answer enough. The queen left the door of Urbosa’s rooms pointedly ajar and laid with her then and there.

~

The next week the first suitor arrived, and Urbosa’s things were moved into the queen’s chambers -- it reeked of a compromise, likely prompted by the queen’s determination for the entire castle to know that she had laid with the Gerudo chief.

For their credit, the staff made sure that such rumors did not reach the voe visiting the castle. Each suitor dined with the queen, her parents, and Urbosa, yet none thought strangely of the Gerudo at their table.

On one such night, as a young Hylian lord tried to charm the queen with a joke, one of the serving maids gave Urbosa a tentative smile and a noticeably larger piece of the fruit tart she was serving. So many more times did events of that nature occur over the course of dinner that Urbosa mentioned it to the queen that night in bed. The queen surprised her with a gentle laugh in response.

“Surely you must see the effect you have on my poor ladies-in-waiting,” the queen asked, the ghost of her laughter not yet gone from her voice. When Urbosa blushed slightly, the queen reached up and caressed her cheek as if to brush the color away. “If it would make you more comfortable, I can banish them from the palace. They need not bother you again.”

The queen’s tone was so light, so gentle, that for a moment Urbosa struggled to reconcile her words. Banishment for the crime of childish flirting? But the queen seemed quite serious in her quest to protect her.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Urbosa replied, trying to match the queen’s laughing tone.

“Very well,” the queen said, unbothered. With that, she reached up and caught Urbosa in a kiss that reminded her exactly who in this castle she was meant to be pursued by.

~

A month out from Gerudo Town, Urbosa was starved for word from her people. A small voice that reminded her annoyingly of the council whispered that this was her price for overstaying her welcome at the castle; three was indeed a sacred number and perhaps she should have departed after that many weeks. Urbosa justified her stay -- if only to herself -- with the simple fact that the queen had not yet chosen a husband. She was determined not to dwell on the freedom she had found at the castle, on how much simpler her life here was, or the vai whose bed she shared at night. She wasn’t being childish, she insisted, just practical.

In the meantime, regular letters arrived from her sister, detailing week after week of uneventful activity. While Urbosa wouldn’t have wished ill on them, she secretly craved some indication that she was missed. Instead, each letter signed off with a loaded line wishing her the best with the alliance she was supposed to be forging.

It was true that she shadowed the queen endlessly in the name of counsel, that she shared her bed at night as they laughed and loved and mocked the presented suitors. But while she remained so close to the queen, she could feel the rest of the castle slipping away. _Gerudo_ seemed a sour word in the mouths of other Hylians, who thought she was distracting their queen from finding a husband.

Not for the first time, a suitor at dinner complimented the queen on her earrings. But after she acknowledged him with lukewarm interest, he persisted.

“Those look to be amber, your highness,” he observed shrewdly, offering a quick smile. “By that level of craftsmanship, I must guess them to be from Gerudo Town.” As if realizing his own words, he glanced at Urbosa and then back at the queen. He stiffened slightly, something in his blood smelling a challenge. “My family is known for mining opals near our village. Perhaps I could have a pair fashioned for you.”

“How kind of you,” the queen replied dispassionately, cutting off a small piece of fish and placing it in her mouth delicately.

Still, the next morning, the queen selected a pair of neutral earrings from her jewelry box, gently putting the amber set away.

“Best not to tip off the suitors,” was all she said before wandering away for a bath. Urbosa took heart in that the queen looked rather miserable for the rest of the day, twisting one of her foreign earrings to and fro. She had her duties, just as Urbosa had hers. A pair of earrings was quite the least of them.

~

It had been late summer when they had arrived at the palace, but five long weeks had brought the chill of autumn to the castle. Urbosa was familiar with the gentle shift of the seasons, but she came to realize that winter in the desert was likely still warm to those who lived further north. Freezing rain lashed against the windows and a permanent chill dogged Urbosa endlessly.

The rivers leading to the castle were swollen with rain, allowing the Zora to more easily make their way to the palace. It was the only annual meeting Urbosa actively dreaded; the Gerudo were a people of the sun and sand where the Zora knew only water. This, compounded by an age-old blood feud involving Gerudo thieves and Zora eggs, left her uncertain. Diplomacy was the queen’s game but Urbosa’s personal shortcoming.

Overall, the meeting had been progressing well until Urbosa caught one of their lies. It involved a fishing route she knew of that they claimed to have vacated -- but her sister’s most recent letter had suggested a Gerudo traveler had returned with the opposite tale.

“ _My sources say the fishing route remains occupied_ ,” Urbosa murmured to the queen in Gerudo tongue. They had taken to using it as a sign of their bond, since no others at the castle could speak it. These days, most of their private conversations slipped easily into her native language.

The Zora diplomat before them stiffened, looking mildly affronted. Urbosa watched the queen’s mouth twitch downward for just a moment.

“Chief Urbosa, kindly speak Hylian for the benefit of our guest,” the queen said quietly, staring ahead. Urbosa felt the heat of shame rising in her; she might as well have been a child rebuked for how small she felt. Begrudgingly, she repeated the statement for the diplomat, who launched into a careful retort.

When the evening finally found them alone, Urbosa made to speak of the event. But the queen only raised a hand to quiet her; she looked older than she had in Gerudo Town, more tired around the eyes. The search for a suitor was not going well.

“I am sorry for embarrassing you today,” she said, pulling the pins from her hair, “but that Zora was already uneasy because of your presence. They see you as a Gerudo before they recognize you as my counsel, and we must employ nothing short of total transparency if they are to trust my appointment of you.”

Urbosa backed down, but the shame still sat on her. Though she knew it exposed her youth, the thought of the queen rejecting their sacred language still stung.

“ _Sav'orr,_ ” the queen whispered, as if by apology, as she stood and pressed a kiss to Urbosa’s forehead.

~

Urbosa awoke one morning to find the queen dressing in white -- it was not her usual color, but it suited her as most things did. A set of delicate golden jewelry was laid out on a tray beside her.

“ _My mother wishes me to pray to Hylia today,_ ” the queen said in Gerudo without emotion. She walked over to the jewelry tray and considered it before looking to Urbosa. “ _Will you attend to me?_ ”

Urbosa nodded.

They traveled most of the day by horseback, several familiar guards following closely behind. The queen’s knight nodded to Urbosa. Atop the Great Plateau, they picked their way through the well-tended ruins of an ancient temple; only the queen’s knight and Urbosa followed her inside. There, a great stone statue of a woman gazed at the newcomers. Just as Urbosa had once guarded the queen as she prayed before Nayru, now she watched her bow before Hylia. There was no trace of the reverence she had displayed in Gerudo Town, only grim frustration as she stared firmly at the earth.

“She prays for a husband,” the queen’s knight murmured to Urbosa. Suddenly, the queen stood and kicked a nearby rock so that it bounced off the base of the sacred statue. “Or rather, that’s what her mother told her to do. Seems foolish to me, praying to someone you’re related to. Like asking old granny for a spot of help.”

Urbosa did not have time to respond to this strangely casual voe. The queen stormed away from the statue and snapped at her knight, “We are going home.”

On the long ride back, Urbosa wrestled with her thoughts. It broke her heart to think of the queen’s long day beneath Gerudo Town compared to this foolish excursion; it was obvious now that they queen did not think it would help. Still, she had to respect that the queen had tried anyway. It was, as always, a matter of being seen making the correct moves. A story that the queen had traveled to pray for a husband would do more for her people’s morale than anything else. Like so many others, this show was for them.

~

By divine spite or good chance, the seventh week of Urbosa’s stay produced Lord Rhoam. Urbosa knew at once that he was charming enough. His family’s good money came not from inheritance but from a firm dedication to their business. During dinner, he made a point to speak with Urbosa every bit as much as the queen. He was healthy and reasonably young.

As they laid in the queen’s bed, moonlight filtering over them, the queen set a hand on Urbosa’s chest.

“ _Lord Rhoam is a good man_ ,” the queen whispered in Gerudo. “ _He would make a good king_.”

The Gerudo so rarely had kings that the word she used was too specific. Still, Urbosa understood her and nodded in assent.

“ _You will marry him_ ,” Urbosa guessed. It was not a question, nor was it her counsel. It simply was.

It was the queen’s turn to nod. Both knew Urbosa could not be kept from Gerudo Town much longer; her sister would be coming of age soon, ready to embark on her journeys.

“ _I will stay for the wedding_ ,” Urbosa decided, placing her hand over the queen’s.

The queen was never hers, but Urbosa made a point of keeping her up until dawn. That afternoon, her mother announced the engagement. It was as if the entire kingdom exhaled; Urbosa had never known such kindness from them. No longer was she the queen’s distraction, only a trusted advisor. The Hylian trust she had come to the castle seeking was hers now, though she had never wanted it less.

A young vai in a servant’s outfit caught Urbosa by the arm that evening as she made for bed.

“I’m sorry for the confusion, Chief Urbosa,” she said kindly enough, “but your things have been moved back to your room.” When Urbosa only stared at her, she gestured to the guest room several doors away from the queen’s chambers.

Slowly, she retraced her steps to the familiar door and looked inside. Indeed, all of her belongings had returned to their original places, as if she had never shared a space with the queen at all. It bothered Urbosa slightly that no one had told her of the change, but dismissed it as a mistake borne of a busy day. She stripped herself of that day’s clothes, brushed out her hair, and waited patiently for the queen to find her where she always had.

When night slipped into early morning, Urbosa realized she must have misunderstood; the queen sneaking into guest rooms so soon after becoming engaged would reflect poorly on her indeed. Perhaps the queen did not know in which room her mother had hidden Urbosa. All were plausible, the Gerudo decided as she padded out into the hallway. It hardly mattered -- she was determined to make the most of the time they had left.

But when she moved to ease open the doors of the queen’s chambers, they remained resolutely locked. Urbosa stood there for quite some time, staring blankly at the wood, hand loosely wrapped around the iron rung. To knock now would be not only childish, but more importantly, beneath her.

For the first night of many leading up to the wedding, Urbosa returned to a bed that was not the queen’s and dreamed of the warm sands of home.

~ 

Hylians loved nothing better than a celebration, and no celebration was better than a wedding.

“They love love,” the queen said simply as Urbosa braided her hair. The style was nothing like how she had styled it back in Gerudo Town.

 _Is that what this is?_ Urbosa wanted to ask. Instead, she slid another golden pin into place.

The wedding itself was every bit as lavish as could be expected. The morning rain burned off, but, as always, it still felt cold to Urbosa. No one questioned her placement among the most honored guests. She found herself beside the queen’s appointed knight, the older man graying in the beard. Of all the queen’s guards, she minded this voe the least.

“My apologies for the troubled thoughts this day brings you,” he said at one point during the droning service. When he glanced to see Urbosa staring at him with narrowed eyes, he continued calmly, “I’ve seen how you look at her _and_ the way she stares at you.”

“Don’t tell me _you_ are in love with the queen as well,” Urbosa grumbled, folding her arms. To her surprise, the knight only laughed. He was either very brave or incredibly stupid.

“Hardly,” he chuckled. “It’s my job to watch all these poor people fall in love with her. It’s not my problem until they try to kill her.”

Urbosa appraised him again. He was no hero of legend; each generation, talented knights tried their hand at the Master Sword. The blade on which his hands rested was only good iron. But there was a gravity to him that she could see others interpreting as safety and he seemed well-intentioned. The way his sad eyes washed over the proceedings, she knew he shared her feelings.

“The king?” Urbosa asked gently. The knight nodded.

“We’re from the same village,” he said, his eyes not leaving the man at the queen’s side. “I thought he loved me, once. I hope you’ll forgive me, but… I nominated him to be a suitor, after that disaster on the Great Plateau.”

Urbosa could summon no more anger towards him. If it had not been Rhoam, it would be another. If anything, this voe had suffered so that his queen might end her struggle.

“My condolences,” Urbosa replied shortly.

They were silent for some time as the vows came to a close.

“What poor wedding guests the two of us make,” the knight said, a wide smile growing as a single tear snaked down his cheek. In a stroke of good luck, Urbosa’s burst of manic laughter was lost in the cheers of thousands as Rhoam leaned down to kiss the queen. The knight eyed the laughing vai for a moment before nodding. “Quite right,” he said. He sheathed his sword as the queen and king began to leave down the aisle. “I’ll send orders for a guard to accompany you back to Gerudo Town as soon as you’re packed.”

“No need,” Urbosa replied, struggling to regain her composure and failing. “I’ve been packed for days.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title credit to Emily Dickinson's "A Thunderstorm". 
> 
> This game has been out for a year, and it's our duty to get the Urbosa/Zelda's Mom ship off the ground.


End file.
